Northern Tradition witch and "Pennsylvania Dutch" hexeri Jj Starwalker shares her thoughts and views from her Maine homestead and studio.

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Saturday, December 6, 2014

Moose Spirit Tour, part 1

Your weekly update is late again this
week, but at least I have what I think is a good excuse: I have been
on the road, hunting hex signs in Pennsylvania and finally, ending
Frigga's day on the final miles of my trek to my actual destination,
Hickory Hollow Homestead. Hickory Hollow is the home of my friends
Michele and Vester and the reason for my journey, the LGD pup Moose
Spirit of the Penobscot.

The first part of the week was occupied
with lists.... things to cross off before I left (bills paid, fuel
bought for the house) and things to collect and prepare to make my
hopefully relatively low budget trip more comfortable. And, as
always, madly painting a hex sign so that it could dry and be package
after my departure by Tractor Guy.

We also acquired an unexpected new
mouth to feed at the monthly MOFGA potluck. Friend Bonnie had a

new
litter of kittens in house, just at the age to find new homes and she
was looking to hand off a young male with beautiful coloring and lots
of vim and vigor. I fell in love with the little guy, who looks a
lot like a kitty from my past named Moonshadow and I knew that having
a new baby in the house, especially one that purrs, would be likely
to distract TG a bit from missing me during my away mission. We
eventually named the little kitten Nitro, but being true to his name
and his species, getting a good photo of him has proved a bit
difficult.

Having settled Nitro in, as much as a
kitten can be settled, and Wednesday having arrived, we were off to
rent my wheels for the week, and I was eager to depart despite an
early winter weather event that was pelting us with slush. Travel out
of town was no problem, but my plan to supply myself with road
rations to augment the cups of frozen soup and mason jars of cold
brew coffee in Newport, and additionally get some extra bucks via the
PayPal card from the hex account, had a serious kink. The card would
not work. I had authorized the new card – or so I thought – early
in the week. This procedure generated red flags at PP, which required
me to document who I was and where I lived with a scan of a utility
bill and ID uploaded to them, and I thought that once that hoop had
been cleared, that all was well. I should have known, though, when on
Tuesday night I noted a nag email from PayPal reminding me to
activate the card. I thought it was just a glitch, but boy, was I
wrong. Eventually I did get the card activated, but not before my
first night's layover. Needing money NOW to have on hand for an
unknown amount of tolls, I thrashed around for a couple of hours in
Newport only to discover that the only credit union in tow n is not
part of our network and I had to make do with writing a check at
WalMart for $20 over – the limit – as I bought a new leash for
Moose.

When I finally was able to hit the
road, I was greeted with miles and miles of typically boring
interstate made less interesting by overcast skies and fog and more
troubling by slushy roads, fast moving trucks flinging said slush,
and intermittent rain. The challenging weather continued through
Maine, Massachusetts and all along the way and into the early
darkness. Thanks to the fact that the rest of the US – outside of
Maine, it seems – ARE into signage, and my having broken down the
step by step instructions from Google Maps, each step of the way went
smoothly, up to and including finding my way on the unfamiliar route
over the Tappan Zee Bridge (with its holiday lighting shining
brightly) and into Pennsylvania.

I managed to hit some of the major
traffic areas near the rush hour (I say “near” because the
traffic was actually rushing, not the stop and go/standstill thing
that always makes me think “rush hour” was named by the law of
opposites. After spending several years tucked away in the boonies, I
was pleased to discover that my mad traffic driving skills, born and
honed by being a neophite driver in Los Angeles as a teen, have not
left me. Without much thought I took up my usual position in a center
lane and watched the traffic ballet unfold around me as cars entered
and exited the stream, stage right and left, and merged gracefully
across 5 lanes, at one point. When folks know how to properly merge,
it is a thing of beauty.

It was getting late, but not nearly as
late as I had feared to arrive. I had scoped out several possible
places of lodging before hand, but was surprised to see no highway
signage indicating motels and no large, brightly lit signs rising
over the landscape. When I did find one highway sign with the icon of
a bed, that offramp led me well away from the interstate, into what
seemed to be a less desirable part of town, to one of the sleazeball
properties that I had reviewed and rejected. The location of the
motel, with the two nearest businesses being “adult” shops,
confirmed my initial impression.

ASIDE: if that is what one does to be
an adult, I choose to remain a kid, for sure!

I drove around for at least an hour and
a half, getting on and off each ramp in town and exploring both ways,
north and south of the interstate for what I thought was a reasonable
distance, with no luck. It was getting VERY late and I was getting
VERY tired when I finally happened upon a Holiday Inn and blew the
budget all to heck. If I had not seriously needed electricity, a good
internet connection and a place to spread out maps I probably would
have slept in the car rather than fork over $100 (WITH AARP discount
factored in.) I am sorry folks, but in my world (which I will
continue to be very happy to live in, thank you!) HI is NOT a $100 a
night property, breakfast (which I passed up in order to hit the hex
trail) or not.

Fortunately, the hex hunting went very,
very well. I started out with the tour map that a new online friend
had provided and quickly went to the “what's around that bend?
What's over that hill?” mode, criss-crossing and backtracking,
finding signs on barns on the return down a road that I had missed
going the other direction. I will write in more detail my thoughts
and observations on the hexen in their native habitat once I have a
chance to sort, organize and give a thorough eye to all my photos.

Enough to say, I am glad that there is
no “bag limit” in hex hunting!

I stopped at a McDonalds to use their
electricity and net access to process and upload the first batch,
then hit the road again with the eventual goal of finding The County
Seat, a shop selling chair caneing and basketry supplis and run by
the young lady who supplied my map. I wanted to say “thank you”
in person, and check out the hexen on their property, which I did.
And she gave me good directions to the

Moose Spirit Tour @The County Seat,shopping!

home/studio of Johnny
Claypool, a well known local hex painter who actually still paints
them, instead of doing commercial silk screen. On the way I got to
drive over a lovely covered bridge (with hex sign decorations, of
course) and practice my skills in taking a little town car up a steep
and rough driveway that was much more suited to a 4WD pickup, or at
least a Subaru. Mr. Claypool was not at home, but I had a nice
conversation with his cats and took some pictures of his digs

Home/studio of Johnny Claypool

and
work on display.

Day three was pretty much a repeat of
day 1, minus the financial follies and slush... a very long day
driving in the rain and fog, which ended with the delightful mistress
of Hickory Hollow coming to meet me in the parking lot of the local
McD's and giving me headlights to follow to their place. I had
managed to finally get Google Maps to load, but I am sure that
Michele's route was more direct. Google certainly did NOT tell me to
drive through the parking lot of Tractor Supply and then make a left!